David Greshel

Another morning cracks free
splintering the tired darkness
beneath a kaleidoscopic dawn
shifting tendrils stretch and strike
seducing the swollen egos
of well meaning citizenry
ensnared in marionette strings
to dance at the whim of a puppeteer
playing at Neo-Machiavellian blues
driving barbed wire wedges
between otherwise friends
now screaming bloody murder
drawing lines in the sand

No matter how righteous it seems
There are no winners here
We are all deceived

Out here on the fringes of the known
I find myself pushing deeper
testing the boundaries of mystery
challenging the monsters off the map
and looking to uncover the wonder
lost to the minutiae of routine

Not content to live in the pain
recycling those moments
like some treasured memory
or a misbegotten identity
no longer will I sing its refrain
or leave it in a place of power

This is not a denial
I cannot simply forget
yet neither will I revel in the hurt
or treat it as a coveted lover

Its affect on the path is clear
I can trace the sunken scars
like a braille incantation
but I am not my pain
and I refuse to let it define me

gripping the brightest shaft of light
'til my entire being was enveloped
and drenched in the dazzling spectacle
of indefatigable hope
against which no amount of darkness
could ever think to overwhelm
and no whisper of despair
is given pause for thought

The sun cracked the horizon
splintering light a million ways
just as it always has before
and yet a shadow lingers here
an empty space, a kind of void
left in the wake of your passing
one I never thought to see so soon

We are brothers...in spirit and blood
might not have always been easy
might not have always been good
but we had each other
and an unbreakable bond
that runs deeper
than rivers of crimson

It doesn't feel real
can't believe we won't be talking
about our favorite hockey team
or the next big dream
but I know this is not the end
and it's not the last of us

You're kept within every heartbeat
alive in the light of love
cherished in immortal memories
until my final breath escapes
...

Stepping out onto a precipice
a literal metaphorical edge
of weighted culmination
balanced in perfect symmetry
between a leap of faith
and nothing left to lose
out here among the shifting tides
of imagined galaxies
a veritable universe of options
designed to tantalize
paralyze
snared in the over-thought
overwrought
all too careful analysis
keeping everything mundane
and disappointingly predictable

I woke with the rising dawn
laid out on a ochre stretch of beach
recovering from another hidden night
in the arms of an aloha fantasy
enraptured and enthralled
in the haze of a dream
fading in the materializing sun

Wandered down to the waves
salty foam swirling between sandy toes
dancing through the essence of summer
arriving on the heels of a thunderstorm
and an obsidian spring
disappearing on the golden breeze

Color me alive
if just for one moment
breathe and remember
if only today

History is enveloped in a haunting
caught out in a fog of recompense
called to account for fading ashes
that still cling to the furnace maw
and a sickly sweet gaseous odor
permeating shower chambers
while fragile human frames wither
tattooed serial numbers
erased names

The groaning echoes hang in the halls
accusing revisionist saboteurs
screaming across decades
and bleeding darkness in dreams
raining yellow stars and pink triangles
six million ghosts crying out
begging to be remembered

We were chasing something ancient
riding notes of blue in waves
afloat on sonic chariots
searching out the uncovered shades
hiding in the aural atmospheres
tucked in between the melodies
phrased in the timing of breaths
escaping swollen lungs

We saw the unbroken horizon
crested in the shining illumination
stretching forth from the union
of earth and sea
imagination speaks in harmony
weaving scales and symphonies
invoking strains of a love supreme
and the holy requiem of dreams

They called it a ghost highway
stretching out across the western desert
illuminated by the moon and stars
and those old flickering headlights
carving up the asphalt
devoured beneath the beat up chevy pickup
rumbling through the night
on the way to nowhere we might remember
listening to a reptile monarch croon away
about soul kitchens and backdoor men
set adrift on crystal ships with LA women

The coyotes howl in the distance
celebration or lament, who can say?

The engine breathed its last
stalled out in Death Valley
we wandered further out into nothing
guided by psychedelic whispers
waiting for the sun

I remember the melting snow
the slush and puddles receding
uncovering dormant earth
awakening from its winter slumber
and it might have seemed ugly
muddy, barren, and brown
but it teemed with unseen possibilities unfolding
in shoots of verdant green
stabbing skyward
breaking free

I remember those same echoes
reverberating through
my introspection
and it may have seemed unappealing
but the possibilities are endless
with new life just lying in wait
for the opportune moment to alight

In my most selfish moments
I long for an Ezekiel to prophesy
and breathe life into these tired bones
resurrecting all we ever were
for one last dance on the promenade
one last flight amid the constellations

Hindsight abounds in searing waves
illuminating every stabbing reminder
and all the blood we left behind
in the wake of our verbal assaults
playful sparring once upon a time
turned full blown character assassination

Memory leaves me spent and weary
parading an entourage of fading ghosts
and subtle temptations of might've been
but in the end I'm only dancing
with the rotting corpse of us
and these bones long past their expiration

Unaware of eons crawling past
here outside the bounds of something
as inconsequential as time
and it's a wonder to survive
banished and ignored
left to my own devices
which are rather minimal
when the only thing
that isn't nothing
is you

The first sound in millennia
crackles and thunders
splitting stars with a whisper
calling me forth
to glorious purpose
in the cleansing fire of absolution
erasing every name
that was never mine

I've completed the transcription of all of the pieces that will be included in my upcoming third poetry collection entitled "Fallen Sky, Bought and Sold."
It will have all of the pieces that were written as part of writing prompt challenges that I participated in between September 2015 and March 2017. I'll be finishing up the editing and other work to complete the project and will have it ready to be fully published in print and digital formats by the end of April!

I also plan to have a promotional writing prompt challenge to coincide with the release and will have a few giveaways. Stay tuned for more details!

It drifted in on the lazy breeze
hot and sultry hanging heavy
laid across a psuedo summer night
hushed and hallowed on a river bank
Mississippi mud and a fading melody
echo in the ghosts of Memphis
recalling music in another life
still wafting through the airwaves
bleeding blues and soul
somewhere near the ragged end
of a lonely street
in a hotel famed for shattered hearts
where we listen to a strained piano
playing all across the broken pieces
solidarity in subtle sympathy
sung in background harmony
calling for slow dance solitaire
in the memory of midnight

We are entangled
enraptured
emblazoned with all the hallmarks
of enlightened ecstasy
ensconced in encompassing desires
held within a fever dream
imagining calculated explosives
indoor fireworks in flight
burning the bed to embers and ashes
erupting in the aftermath
of our endless love
eternally echoing

Out in the deepest obsidian expanse
pricked and bleeding illumination
in the racing starlight spreading in eons
devoured by the singularity in absence
everything that ever was or will be
balanced on the head of a pin
suspended in infinite possibility

Is this the unfolding scope of reality
or just another elaborate fantasy?

Spinning coppers spark debate
tossed in flippant defiance
erupting from the end of a megaphone
leaving little room for civil discourse
in such a public arena
and one might almost believe
that this was your permanent intention
shouting down any opposition
with a totality of practiced derision
that we've come to expect from
your porcine primadonna acolytes
made up and utterly obvious
cue the spectacle
entrance stage left

Thinking it may have lingered just a bit too long
a question framed in verse and rhyme
punctuating Sunday conversations
encompassing this flight of dreams
the ones we're left to dream alone
here among the graves of poets and libertines
resurrected and walking among the stones
wondering if this is what I truly thought
I'd find in my heart when you were gone
knowing I was ever the fool for you
and I just had to let that feeling linger...

It's so cold in Ireland this morning
heavy in the weight of your absence
longing for the scent of cranberries
scattered in the fresh fallen snow

Starlight tumbled earthward
sparking golden wishes
and unnamed hopes
fanciful sentiments
for a spectrum of rays
traveling several lifetimes
to expire in a glittering shower
but for a moment's delight
aloft in the eyes of a child
whispering innocent prayers
and wondering at the heavens

It's in the empty AM hours
dreamless and catatonic
interrupted only by the necessity of breath
where I wonder if this is truly sleep
or if the program has been paused
queued at save point convenience
waiting for an aimless player's interest
in this ramshackle simulation
an approximation of living
in some designer's imagination
but it begs a myriad of questions
stolen from an existential syllabus
bent on discovering an undisputed purpose
in the art of conversation
and the nature of violence
as the measure of enlightenment
of the civilized and savages

Achievement unlocked
an anchor and a cross
weighed down and crucified
by every anxious nightmare
every hypothetical thought

There's an often startling procession
to even the most timid recollections
spilling out of uncovered omission
amongst the illustrated composition
and favoring the empty decisions
idly discussed like something lost
but never quite out of mind

Sifting through the passages
drifting in ink stained histories
wrought in fractured perceptions
that split time and reality
into fading curiosities
Spread out past infinity

Imagination fuels this inquiry
creating convenient catalysts
from empty points of emphasis
and lights the flame of avarice
while we slice ourselves to pieces

Woke up in a haze
recollecting the sound of sparks
and the acrid smell of smoke
from all the misspent fireworks
wondering if the scorch marks
crisscrossing the vaulted ceiling
void the initial deposit
or just add a little character
to this borrowed apartment

Revelation seemed within reach
transfixed in the growth of clarity
but there's no security in a cyclone
no safety in the dragon's breath
and we make our farewells
to the phantoms of gilded dreams
caught within the fading stories
we build to get us through the night

So much of it feels like an exercise
practice in the art of dissertation
and colorful sleight of hand
wandering through cliche responses
toward a final exaggeration
with all...